


Of Not Families, Picture Frames, and Scrutiny

by Diary



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bechdel Test Pass, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Canon Crossover, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Dinner, Families of Choice, Friendship/Love, Late Night Conversations, Morally Ambiguous Character, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Bruce Banner, POV Male Character, POV Nonhuman, Pictures, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 12:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14977580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: AU. After the Battle of Sokovia, Bruce and Wanda go from enemies to tentative allies. Complete.





	Of Not Families, Picture Frames, and Scrutiny

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Avengers.

“Stark doesn’t hate me, but he’ll never forgive me, either.”

Bruce focuses on the sounds of people milling about the train station. He’s been debating buying a ticket, and now, if he does, it won’t be for a train leaving tonight. He can’t risk being in an enclosed space with innocent people in this state. He’s still him, but he’s at a point where he’s almost tempted to let the other guy out.

Hopefully, even if there weren’t innocent people around, he wouldn’t, but the truth is, he can’t safely give himself the credit of knowing for sure he wouldn’t.

He’s seen Tony hold grudges, and giving a little orphaned bottle of mass destruction her own room and talking to big brothers Steve and Clint about education options is so far from it, it’s not even funny in a laugh-so-you-don’t-cry-or-rage way.

“Anger always hurts,” she continues. “It’s something our mother used to tell Pietro and me. You aren’t somehow different or better than me, Dr Banner. I chose to hurt people, because, I was angry. You were very careful with your anger, never let it out, and injecting yourself wasn’t done in anger. A sincere belief you would be helping people. But your anger was there, and now, you can’t control it. I can control mine.”

“Good for you,” he sarcastically replies.

“I don’t remember which of asked, but one of us said, ‘What if the anger goes away before anyone is hurt, Mama?’ She said that the person who felt the anger would feel guilt for it.”

He almost makes a barbed comment about her parents’ parenting skills, but- whatever he feels towards her, he’s not going to insult her dead mother. He knows nothing about Mrs Maximoff other than the fact she died with her husband near their two children.

“One day, he’s going to do something worse than Ultron.”

“Probably,” he agrees. “I wonder if you’ll play a part behind it, again. I know I won’t.”

“We could make sure neither does.”

He starts to get up, and his bag subtly moves out of reach.

Standing fully, he says, “I’ve travelled with less.”

Before he can take a full step, however, he finds himself pushed back down into the seat, and the other guy practically pounds underneath his skin. Taking a few deep breaths, he looks over. Studying her, he can see by her wary, half-fearful expression she can see the signs of how close the other guy is. “Tell me, how many times do you think the others are going to give you more chances? That Clint and the captain, especially, are going to argue you deserve them?”

“More than you,” she quietly answers.

Something about the response startles him.

“You can hate me until the day you die, Dr Banner, but you care about the world, and you care about the Avengers. They value your opinions.”

He scoffs.

“You disagree?”

They might have, but then, he helped Tony create Ultron. This in combination with the other guy- Besides, if they truly felt he was important, the least they would do is not induct her as an Avenger. She’s a sociopathic premeditated murderer, and so was her brother. He’s truly glad Clint and the Sokovian boy are still alive, but this one act doesn’t wipe out what Pietro Maximoff did with his sister.

“We can go with: Them doing everything they’ve done and are planning on doing for you makes me value theirs significantly less. Yes, I care for them, and yes, I do think they’re the world’s best hope. But they’re unanimously making what could be a worst mistake than Ultron by not-”

Admittedly, he’s not sure what could be done about her. He’s always been uneasy about SHIELD detaining certain people with extra-human abilities, but this doesn’t even matter due to how messed up SHIELD is right now. They’re crumbling, and Hydra is liberating those aforementioned detainees left-and-right. If all this weren’t the case, he doesn’t know if he could convince SHIELD to take her or not. Agents Romanov, Barton, and Roger would all strongly object.

No ordinary prison could hold her. He wouldn’t be upset if she died, but he’s not sure he could make the argument a seventeen-year-old should be subjected to capital punishment.

Besides, he’s not sure what she could be charged with, and he doesn’t know if she’d be charged as a minor or adult. If mind control is on par with non-consensually drugging someone, the penalties for the latter are often relatively light, and he’s not sure a drugged person killing people can use the excuse they were drugged to get out of punishment themselves. If it’s on par with rape, then, unfortunately, the sentencing for that is often much too light, too. This and helping Ultron are the only two things she’s concretely guilty of, and going after her for aiding Ultron opens up the possibility of Helen facing charges, too.

Her soft voice breaks into his thoughts with, “They need someone to tell them that.”

He finds himself staring.

“I made mistakes. I’m not a terrible person, and neither was my brother. But the others, they see me as young and innocent, and they want to protect that. They’re willing to overlook my past. You aren’t, and if I start to make more mistakes, someone they trust needs to tell them.”

“If I thought it’d work, I’d tell them right now. You are young, but I don’t see you as innocent. I don’t see you as someone who just made mistakes. You are a terrible person, and despite my general belief in not speaking ill of the dead, so was your brother.”

She glares at him with red eyes.

He scoffs. “When you hurt them- I can’t risk something like Johannesburg happening again. I’ll mourn for them, but I won’t stay to try to protect them.”

“I wanted to hurt you and break up the Avengers. I had no idea Hulk would travel over 300 miles and attack others. We specifically waited until you were alone in the middle of nowhere.”

“Tell that to the orphans, widows and widowers, and all the other people who lost loved ones. Tell that to all the permanently disabled and forever psychologically scarred.” Shaking his head, he leans back. “I do feel badly for what happened to ten-year-old you and your brother. I don’t like the fact Tony used to manufacture weapons. My sympathy ends when you inflict the same violence and terror that was inflicted on you onto others.”

She takes a deep breath.

Even knowing she’s unlikely to appreciate it, he can’t help but say, “That’s not going to help.” At her look, he explains, “It might keep you from doing something stupid, but inside, you’re still incredibly frustrated, aren’t you? Taking a deep breath only works for some people. Here, watch my stomach.”

Concentrating on his breathing, he takes several slow, deep breaths.

Straightening, she puts her hand on her stomach, and after a few tries, she’s letting out slow, evenly deep breaths. Looking at him with surprised eyes, she says, “I feel much better.”

He nods. “The next time you’re angry or scared or frustrated, try doing that. And it wouldn’t hurt to practise on calm days.”

“Thank you.”

“The more people who can control their emotions, the better.”

“Control your emotions when I ask you this: Putting aside your dislike of me and your lack of belief in my ability to control myself, do you believe my abilities could be used for good? To help people?”

“I know they can be. I know, if it weren’t for you, we might not have been able to defeat Ultron and save all those people. But then, if it weren’t for you and your brother, we might not have needed to in the first place.”

“I want to help people, Dr Banner. I want to be an Avenger, and whether you like it or not, I’m going to try. But if everyone is always so careful with me, that might cause problems in the future. If you can put your personal feelings of me aside enough- I learned a little about checks and balances when I was younger. Pietro and I, we used to be that for one another. Now, he’s gone, and either people like the Avengers see me as good and somewhat delicate, or they fear me and want me controlled or destroyed.”

Before he can respond, she says, “I know you fall in the latter. But if you could agree when something I’m going to do is good and speak out to the others when you think I need to stop or do something different, we can both help people. I can’t bring those people in Johannesburg back or turn back the time and stop Ultron, but I can do good things. And you could potentially stop me from ever doing something really bad again.”

“You know what? If not for the fact you have the ability to literally control people’s minds, maybe, I’d see the logic in your proposal. What’s going to stop you from mind-whamming- oh, God, even when Tony isn’t around, I end up sprouting pop culture idioms I’m not even sure I’m using correctly.”

“I know what ‘pop culture’ is, but ‘idiom’?”

“Non-standard expressions of speech. Look, what’s to stop you from using your powers on all of us again when you don’t get your way?”

“Ah. The answer is Hulk.”

“What?”

“He and, by extension, you can’t be killed. If I get in your mind again, it’ll be a repeat of Johannesburg. When it comes to the others, you’d be able to tell soon enough if they were acting under my powers.”

“I don’t know that I would. I was told about your attack after their visions wore off. If you tried directly controlling them instead of doing that, I don’t know that you wouldn’t be able to get them to act normal enough that I wouldn’t suspect something was off.”

Suddenly, he’s just tired. “There was a time I would have thought so. I’m not sure there’s a delicate way to say this, but,” taking off his glasses, he looks over at her, “I’m honestly not saying this to strike at you: If you think you can find a family in the Avengers, you won’t. The Avengers aren’t a family. Some of us aren’t even friends. We were all just screwed up people with specialised skills who saved the world a few times.”

Turning back, he continues, “Huh. It was bothering me that you were going to be an Avenger. That anyone would ever think you had the right to call yourself that, to be called that. But saying that now, it doesn’t. Avengers will come and go. More people than you and I will hold, discard, and lose that designation.”

She doesn’t stop him from picking up his bag, standing, and walking over to the ticket counter.

After getting his ticket, he starts to head for the vending machines.

“You left a note.”

Jumping, he turns to see she’s right behind him, and he curses Hulk for not alerting him to her approach. _You truly are useless,_ he thinks _._

Beneath him, the other guy grumbles.

“Yes, I did.”

She narrows her eyes. “Not family, no? Maybe you’re right. But you love some of them, at least. Why didn’t you tell any of them you were leaving? You left a note and snuck away in the middle of the night.”

“It’s really not as dramatic as you’re making it sound. My note was an email that was sent to all of them but Thor, who doesn’t even have a computer, let alone an email address. And I didn’t sneak out of the compound in the dead of the night. I checked out of my hotel room at nine p.m. It wasn’t even fully dark outside yet.”

“You left everything of yours at the compound.”

“I told you, I’ve travelled with far less. I don’t get attached to material objects anymore.”

“Pietro and I used to steal to survive. When we’d steal jewellery, clothes, electronics, even if I liked something, I never had a true urge to keep it. My mother’s faith was the most important thing to her. She raised us to have God in our hearts.”

“When it was time to leave, my mother was wearing a cross. Selling it wouldn’t have gotten enough for a meal. It was going to be mine someday. She was going to give it to me when I turned sixteen. I was going to be married in it. Her granddaughter was going to wear it someday.”

“But I was angry and disbelieving. God did nothing when we were sitting with our dead parents, waiting for our own deaths. God let people like Stark live and kill and do it in safety and comfort. The least He could have done was take us, or take me, at least, too. And so, I climbed out of the hole with Pietro and left my mother’s cross around her neck.”

God help him, he’s dangerously close to feeling the urge to try to comfort her.

“It’s probably for the best that I didn’t take it. I don’t know how God feels about me, if everything is truly forgiveable in His eyes, or if I’m going to Hell. I pray every night for my brother’s soul to join our parents in Heaven. I’ll try to let the others know Tony needs comfort when the mail arrives.”

Something about her last sentence gives him the creeps, but before he can say anything, she’s walking off.

Sighing, he digs out his phone and sends a warning email to Tony. Hopefully, it’ll be enough, but if it’s not- he couldn’t stop any of their attachments to her even if he tried.

…

On the train, opening his bag to get his shaving kit out, he feels numbness overtake him.

After the Battle of New York, everyone was taking their pictures left, right, and centre. Tony being Tony saved as many as he could in both physical and digitised form, but one picture-

Tony had given him two connected gold frames that can open and close. On the left side is a picture with him sitting on a couch, and next to him, Tony has an arm slung over his shoulders. Behind the couch, Romanov is perched on a standing Clint’s shoulders, Thor has one hand on her shoulder and his other arm wrapped around Steve, and Steve has a fond, easy look on his face.

On the right side is a carefully cut out article about the Avengers.

He feels a twitch of tangled emotions when he finds she also included wrapping paper and a sheet of stamps.

There’s no requirement he send it back, he knows.

He left it behind for a reason, and travelling with it includes the risks of it being stolen, lost, or damaged.

…

At the next train station, he hesitates at the ticket booth.

Eventually, he decides not to buy a ticket, and when he turns around, she literally steps out of some nearby shadows.

Beneath his skin, the other guy is outright exasperated, and this is one of the rare times they’re in complete agreement.

“Jesus, you’re creepy.”

“I’ve been told this by many,” she replies.

“Well, I wouldn’t trust most of what comes out of your mouth more than I’d have confidence in the other guy aceing a standardised test, but I have no problem believing that. Tell me, do you do things like this intentionally?”

“Would you hate me less if the answer was ‘no’?”

“If not for Johannesburg, I probably wouldn’t hate you at all.” He scoffs. “You can try to paint me as unreasonable and cruel, if you want. I’ll admit, there might be some justification in charging me with hypocrisy. But I’m not going to be made to feel guilty for not jumping on the ‘give the genetically enhanced girl from a war-torn, third world country a chance’ bandwagon. You weren’t controlled when you controlled me. Or when you tried to, at least. Those people’s deaths are largely on your hands.”

“I’m not the reason you feel guilty,” she says. “You can’t help it. When I think of my mother and father, I imagine saying, ‘There’s more death and murder in God’s Book than you would have ever admitted.’ I wish I had killed Ultron sooner. I can understand Stark better now, but in the beginning, I was convinced not to kill him, because, I could do more for the world by not.”

Chills go down his spine, but he finds himself rooted to the spot.

“But you feel guilty when you do something wrong, and you often feel guilty when you don’t. You can’t ever fully hate that Ross man, and his daughter isn’t the reason. You want to know why people who hurt you and do bad things are like that. Even in my case, when you wish you couldn’t care, you still wonder. Wondering can lead to empathy, I’ve found.”

“And so, you try not to wonder,” he says.

“You pride yourself on being honest, but personally, I believe you do it to try to hide the worst parts of yourself from others. I don’t condemn myself, but I know what I am, Dr Banner. I’m angry, I don’t have much empathy for those I consider a threat, and you’ll notice I’ve never apologised for what I did to you and the others.”

“Do you have money to buy food? With you?”

Her look is utterly startled, but she quickly answers, “Yes.”

“Good. I’m hungry. Let’s find some place to eat.”

…

They find a 24/7 diner, and as they walk in, he realises how this might look to others: Scruffy, middle-aged man, teenage girl with an accent, and they have enough physical similarities they could potentially be family, but really, they don’t look like family.

She looks around when they enter, and when they sit down and a waitress hands them menus, she gives hers a look that’s somewhere between suspicion and confusion. “Why don’t they have a sign or board that everyone can see?”

“I don’t know. Agent Romanov could probably answer that.”

“Where’s your drink list,” she asks the waitress.

Aware he’s likely not helping himself in the slightest, he says, “You’re seventeen. And alcohol isn’t allowed to be sold here until twelve noon.”

“I know that. I mean, I know I’m under the drinking age. I want a Mary drink without vodka, but I’m picky about how I want it, and I don’t know how they typically make them.”

“Actually, we don’t serve Bloody Marys, but if you tell me what exactly you want, I’ll see if making you a virgin one is possible,” the waitress says.

“Oh. Thank you,” Wanda replies. “If it’s possible…”

After they’ve ordered and the waitress has left, he considers simply walking out. Out of all the bad decisions he’s made in his life, at least, most of them, he was operating under a set of logic when he made them. It might have been faulty logic, but at the time, he could defend it to himself. Sitting across from someone who could attack him and win at any moment and who he hates so badly he can feel how angry the other guy is- there’s no logic to this.

“Why are you following me around? If it’s because of the others, you aren’t going to gain much, if anything, by convincing me to come back. In the past, we’ve all gone our separate ways. If I’m ever needed to help save Earth again, I’ll be there.”

“I’ve told you why.”

Their drinks come.

“Yeah, you have. Moving on, how do I- I don’t trust you. I never will. How do I know you’re sincere about working with the others and helping people?"

"You helped in Sokovia, and I’m not denying that. But you subjected yourself to genetic modifications for your country. You turned against the person or whatever the correct classification for Ultron is when you found out he was a threat to your country, and you helped the people who were trying to save your fellow countrymen and women. I want you to understand, I’m not saying anything against your patriotism, but I am saying, you being patriotic isn’t enough of a reason to just accept someone wants to protect the world from all the major threats it might face.”

She starts breaking her celery into small pieces. “You not trusting me is good, if you can acknowledge when I do things properly. I’m not a spy, Dr Banner. If I do anything to hurt you or the others, it’ll be discovered quickly. I’m not asking you to believe my motives or forgive me. I’m asking that you make sure the others aren’t too easy or forgiving in their treatment of me.”

“Oh, believe me, if I had my way- but I don’t. I’ll give you this: The fact you seem to be trying to make sure there’s some check-and-balances in play when it comes to you, I might be able to have a little bit of respect for you. But I’m not someone who can provide that. You could do a mission perfectly, and I would point out everything that you could and should have done better.”

He sighs. Wondering if it’s too late to cancel his order, he says, “So, yeah. That doesn’t say anything good about me, but there it is.”

“You’ve said, if you’re needed to help save the world, you’ll be there. What if I’m still an Avenger? You and I didn’t have much contact when we were all stopping Ultron, but what if more is required in the future?”

She doesn’t give him time to respond. “When Strucker told us about the Avengers, my brother and I didn’t like any of you, Dr Banner. You were an arrogant, selfish, and a danger as both a man and the Hulk. Do you think my opinion of you changed for the better after I got into your head? Or now? You’re so full of self-righteous anger and coldness.”

“But I know you’re brilliant. If you treat me with basic respect, I’ll do the same. You can talk to the others about me instead of to me unless necessary. Again, I’m not trying to convince you I’m a good person or earn your forgiveness. I am a talented fighter, and I can be better.”

The food arrives, and she gives her plate a dubious look.

“Everything alright,” the waitress asks.

“Um- I can’t eat all this.” She looks between them in such a way his mind conjures up the image of a trapped rabbit.

“You can get a to-go box and heat it up later. Leftovers,” he says.

“Do these to-go boxes cost much?”

“They’re free, sweetheart,” the waitress says. “If you don’t finish your food or drink, most restaurants in America will give you a box, bag, or cup with no extra charge.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“You, sir?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

…

“Welcome back, Scarlet Witch. Hello, Dr Banner,” a vaguely Irish-accented voice greets.

“Hello," she says. "Is Stark in, Friday?”

“No, but I can contact him if you’d like.”

She starts to respond, but Steve’s voice cuts her off. “Hey, haven’t seen you for a few days. Everything okay?”

Turning and holding the box out, she says, “I brought leftovers.”

Smiling, Steve responds, “Good for you. I remember the first time I was introduced to the concept of to-go boxes. I was about your age. Did you- Bruce.”

“Hey, Steve.” At Steve’s studying of his eyes and glances at her, he says, “I’m here of my own free will.”

“Mister Stark just flew into his personal lab,” Friday announces.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” he says. “Steve, when you get time, let’s talk later, alright?”

“Yeah, sure, doc. It’s- it’s good to see you again so soon.”

…

Tony’s working underneath an SUV when Bruce comes in.

“You’re being massively unhelpful with the pros versus cons. I’d ask Pep, but she already thinks-”

One of the robots, possibly the one Tony is ranting at, chirps, and Tony slides out. “I thought I- Bruce.”

“Hey, Tony.”

Standing up, Tony starts to wash his hands. “Not to make you feel unwelcome, but if you forgot something, a quick email, phone call, or snail mail letter, and I’d’ve been happy to send your stuff to wherever you wanted.”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could re-sign as an independent contractor for Stark Industries.”

He watches as realisation causes Tony’s eyes to light up. “You’re not going back out into the wind, big guy?”

“I’m not living here. I can’t. But Maximoff tracked me down, we had several long conversations, and if the rest of you still want me, I’m here.” Seeing how intently Tony’s studying him, he adds, “And she didn’t get into my head again. This is all me, Tony.”

…

Watching Steve and Scarlet Witch’s training exercise, Bruce orders, “Freeze program.”

The holographic program freezes.

Steve sets down his shield. “Doc?”

She looks at him with solemn eyes, and he manages not to sigh. “That building,” he gestures to it, “was it empty?”

“Empty?”

“You stopped the bus from hitting Steve. That’s good. But if you just threw it into a building full of people, what are the chances there are no serious injuries or even deaths?”

He’s not sure what to make of the expression on Steve’s face, but she bites her lip, nods, and looks between them. “What should I do if an object is attacking a teammate in the middle of a battle?”

“Let’s figure it out,” Steve says. “We should do test runs with bullets, bombs, over sorts of weapons, too, not just vehicles and other normally non-lethal objects.”

…

He heads to the kitchen to get some fruit, and before he enters, he hears, “I appreciate what Dr Banner did. He doesn’t need to take a soft approach with me, Steve. He wasn’t cruel or dismissive. He saw a problem, and we’re figuring out how to avoid it should it come up in real life.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. I know. I just wish he’d give you the same chance we all gave each other after the Battle of New York.”

“He’s never going to like or trust me. And I don’t need him to. I know who I am, and I know who I want to be. Even though Dr Banner and I will never become friends like you and the others have, I think, given time, I can be worthy of his trust when the chips are down.”

“And what about you? Do you trust Bruce?”

Now’s the time to leave, he knows.

“I know that Hulk will try to kill me if he ever comes out while I’m near. When it comes to Dr Banner, however, when defenceless people need protecting, he would make a deal with the devil himself to protect them. And when the time comes, even if he still hates me so much he wishes me dead, I’m not going to hesitate in fighting beside him. I hope, by that time, I’ll have proven myself enough that he won’t, either.”

Walking away, he finds himself with the unpleasant realisation he’s beginning to respect Wanda Maximoff. She _will_ make a good ally, he knows. He just hopes he’ll live up to the sincere belief in him putting defenceless people above his own feelings she seems to hold.

Out of the two of them, in this instance, it’s him he finds worthy of scrutiny, not her.


End file.
